


Keep Your Mind On...

by Lunarium



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Rescue, Some Humor, Uniform Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 07:48:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13700070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarium/pseuds/Lunarium
Summary: Shiro wasn’t one to disobey such rules, especially ones he set out for himself, but damn if seeing Keith step out in that body-forming suit hadn’t suddenly made his mind short-circuit.





	Keep Your Mind On...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lasersheith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lasersheith/gifts).



> Happy Sheithlentines! I had so much fun writing this one! :)

_Keep your mind on the mission._ It was a simple command, and an important command at that. Shiro wasn’t one to disobey such rules, especially ones he set out for himself, but damn if seeing Keith step out in that body-forming suit hadn’t suddenly made his mind short-circuit. 

It wasn’t like they hadn’t fooled around before: Keith in his Garrison uniform teasing him back in the old shack; Keith scandalously lifting up his tee-shirt to wipe off his sweat after a round with the Altean training drone, strategically positioning himself so that Shiro would get a good view of his stomach; Keith looking delicious that one night when there was a formal dinner hosted for the Garrison alumni and Shiro invited him and—

Damn, he had something of a uniform kink, didn’t he? Well, only if the clothes were on (or in the process of being taken off) Keith. No preference on what the “uniform” actually was. Keith could perform magic on any strip of fabric. 

Shiro shook his head, silently berating his thoughts for straying. Keith needed his help at this moment, and Shiro had to focus. Even if Keith was sporting a skin-tight suit that accentuated ever dip and sharp curve. Even if deep violet suited him all too well. 

Keith approached him, flustered, and turned around to show an exposed back. Understanding the silent plea, Shiro found the zipper puller—a very thin and long hook, which was surprising given the large commonly-clawed hands of the Galra— and drew it up, careful not to catch on Keith’s hair when he reached the top. He released a silent sigh as smooth skin slowly was cloaked away from him, veiled under the tight fabric. 

_Keep your mind on the mission._

Keith turned back and smiled nervously. Heavens, he was angelic even like this, even as they were about to embark some risky feat for—for what? What did Keith want to prove? And to whom? 

“You don’t have to do this,” Shiro said as he stroked Keith’s cheek lovingly. They could steal away into some hall and just enjoy one another’s company. They didn’t need to prove anything to anyone. If this knife was important for him, he could keep it. He just didn’t want Keith to go through any pain. 

Keith chuckled lightly. “I need to know. I have to. I want to know who I am and…what I am. Where I’ve come from. I always had these questions and my dad never really answered me, you know? Like he was trying to protect me. But he would have told me some day, had he not passed on before I was old enough to know.”

Shiro gave a gentle sigh. So this was what it was about. He knew Keith for enough years to know that the subject of who his mother was and his lineage troubled him. Even if it meant having to face down an entire secret army of Galra—all who were at least double his size—he was willing to take the steps if it meant giving him the chance to unlock questions about his heritage. 

“I understand,” Shiro said, “and I will stand by you. You got this, buddy.”

* * *

Keith turned his head back at the sound of pained groaning. He abandoned his post at the controls and rushed to the figure lying fetal-position on the ground, covered in the only blanket he could find on the ship. He crouched down and laid a hand over his brow. 

“Shiro?” 

Shiro glanced up, blinking in the blaring light. 

“ _Keith?_ Where am I? Where are we? What’s going on?” 

“I’ve confiscated a Galra ship. I’m taken you back to safety. Are you all right?” He checked for any signs of trauma, but as before, there was none. Shiro appeared as perfect as he had before: terrifyingly still in that tube they had encased him in, being slowly drained of his quintessence. 

It was part of Operation Kuron all along, a phrase now burning in the back of his mind ever since he read the charts. Concentrated quintessence required the sacrifice of many bodies, many duplicates of the same body…each time a clone had been declared a failure or unfit to proceed to the other phases of the operation, Zarkon’s witch refused to have the individual—because Keith refused to think of the clones as disposable failed experiments but their own persons—killed off. She didn’t waste a single life. She used them. Harvested them. Their quintessence was what Lotor used to fuel his ships. That was the concentrated quintessence Kolivan, Regris, and he had found on the fleet. He could only imagine what else the Galra were planning to do with the highly concentrated form. 

He will deal with that later. 

For now before him was the original. _His_ Shiro. The way Haggar had him on display like a prized possession, ready for her to sample more of his blood for more clones, was evident enough. And just the way Shiro’s eyes lit up as their gazes met, misted over, the pain catching up to him. 

Keith cupped Shiro’s face in his hands and kissed him. Couldn’t help himself. The ship was completely void of any biorhythms or sentries. They were alone, and they were heading back to safety. The adrenaline from the panic earlier had melted away into a need for comfort and quiet. 

“How did you know to find me in that lab?” 

“It’s a long story,” Keith said with a small laugh. He took Shiro’s hand in his, caressing it and reveling in the touch, in knowing he hadn’t lost him. 

That was when he noticed Shiro’s gaze turn towards his clothes. 

“Yeah, that too,” Keith said. “It’s a long story…I work closely with the Blade now. We’re still working with Voltron. We got the alliance we aimed for, Shiro. It’s just…things happened after you were gone. But I felt it in my heart to work alongside them; I somehow must have known it would lead me to you.” 

Shiro positively grew pink at Keith’s warm smile. His lips trembled and he gave a nervous half-cough, half-laugh. “Er, it’s not that…” 

Keith studied Shiro’s shy, timid face before finally understanding; a quick glance confirmed his suspicions. 

“Oh…” The corners of Keith’s lips quirked into a little mischievous smile. He had always suspected the clothes he wore did things to Shiro; Shiro had never outright admitted them, but Keith would catch him staring for a couple of interested moments before quickly glancing away while Keith was wipe his face with his shirt, or the times he’d catch Shiro nearly undressing him with his eyes while he was wearing his Garrison uniform, or his first pilot gear, or his formal shirt and tie at the alumni ball…

Well, then. 

He shot to his feet and made for the control panel. After checking how much farther it would be until they reached their destination, he dimmed the lighting on the dock to a soft purple light. 

“But, Keith, the mission…don’t get distracted—” 

Keith grinned back at Shiro. “I completed my mission in saving you. We got nothing else going on until we get reach the Castle. And I think there’s something both of us need to tend to.” 

He resumed his place and took Shiro’s left hand. After kissing the palm, he brought it to his chest, and Shiro’s thumb instinctively flicked around his nipple over the fabric. Shiro gave a tiny whimper, and Keith smiled as he watched the effect it already had on him. His shoulders sank just a fraction. 

_Come on, Shiro. Keep your mind on me._

His hand traveled lower, caressing tiny circles down Keith’s torso before Shiro’s lips met the spot he had just touched, spreading kisses; and Keith gave a tiny moan of pleasure. He imagined that hot mouth traveling lower and nearly wept. Hot sparks tingled through him. The fabric rubbed against him delightfully; he hadn’t imagined it would feel this good. 

“We have the next few vargas alone before we have to contact the team,” Keith said. 

Shiro smiled and gave a nod before taking his mouth lower. 

They both earned a little rest.


End file.
